Sparks

Rain Dog, a Pantoum

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Rain Dog, a Pantoum By Suse Pareto Dog is bored and restless. Rain is pouring down. I’m loath to leave this comfy bed, but walk we must, says she.   Rain is pouring down, the road is sodden and feckless. But walk we must, says she, up to the woods we go.   The road is sodden and feckless. The hills are wet and slick. Up to the woods we go, Dog barks in great delight.   The hills are wet and slick, rain drips from leaf and stick. Dog barks in great delight, “Water slithering, sliding everywhere!”   Rain drips from leaf and stick. The gullies run fast and wild, water slithering, sliding everywhere, it’s like the earth has burst.   The gullies run fast and wild, Dog nips at water’s tumble. It’s like the…

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Smiling

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Smiling By Jenny Beth Schaffer Smiling, after a certain age, is an act of boldness and an invitation to danger because already there are enough lines and wrinkles in your face that the very last thing you want to do is aggravate the problem. Because as everyone knows perfectly well, each smile takes a tiny toll on the elasticity, the buttery lacquer of your already anxious countenance. It’s a high-risk situation, this smile or not smile gambit, one requiring the weighing of the pros and cons, and typically you have just milliseconds to make the decision. Look no further than Wile E. Coyote to understand the consequences of split second decisions.  Someone passes on the street, a stranger perhaps, casting the sunshine of their toothiness in your direction. What. Do. You. Do? It calls for a…

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One Shrug for Chocolate Chip and Two for Peanut Butter

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. One Shrug for Chocolate Chip and Two for Peanut Butter By Robin Mills Olive made her way slowly down the aisle. The Canyon Country Store was older than even her grandma. It had been there when the road that snaked up and over the hill from the valley side to the city side was just dirt. The floors creaked, oak rubbing oak. When the 3:00 bell rang, most kids piled onto the stubby-nosed yellow bus, the small kind, not the long sleek yellow bus with rounded edges. There were not enough kids up in the canyon to warrant a big bus like that, so they got the small version. But Olive preferred to walk. It gave her a chance to look at things and even occasionally find something another walker had unknowingly dropped. And when she…

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Holiday ABC’s

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Holiday ABC’s   By Mary O’Brien When home alone in December, your options are: a) make ornaments b) bake goodies c) work on art project d) write Christmas poem f) practice using new corkscrew, make sure it works on reds, whites, as well as blushes g) clean out dryer lint filter, put lint in all of hubby’s jacket pockets h) phone long lost friend, sing carols to them i) see if cinnamon bears float in bathtub j) tape mini lights in spiral on carpet, making a yellow brick road k) try moonshine pickles, eat with chopsticks l) make pickle ornaments m) write ugly letter to Santa n) set fire to letter using fumes from pickles o) play Here Comes Santa Claus on keyboard using meow meow sounds p) write Christmas cards on pieces of burned toast q)…

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Make Light in the Dark

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Make Light in the Dark A Letter of Forgiveness to Myself by Caryl Sherman Dearest pale, broken, and lonely sit up stretch out your arms take a deep cleansing breath   You don’t have to hold yourself apart from others anymore   Cradle your intention slowly rock away the fears long to see the light listen to the raindrops splash away the tears   Forgive yourself be a better purveyor of your own destiny   Ever changing and growing with age intentionally litter your psyche with sprinkles and multi-colored streamers Dance   Make light in the dark hold yourself in the palm of love   Your humbled heart is right here… in the best place at the right time in our mutual care   Live joy no matter what reminisce in laughter forgive again   You…

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In Praise of Christmas Tree Farms

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. In Praise of Christmas Tree Farms By Sus Pareto Yesterday I drove to Larsen’s Christmas Tree Farm, about two miles from my house. It was a balmy fall afternoon, and the road to the farm was lined with poplars and willows dappled in gold.           Up ahead, I saw the red and green sign pointing to a narrow driveway which led to a dell where a yellow clapboard house and outbuildings gathered. Just a normal, traditional Petaluma farm — except when Christmas tree season opens. Like an explosion, the quiet dell surrounded by acres of orderly pine trees becomes a bustling hub of people and cars. As if by magic, gossiping groups of pre-cut trees have popped up while a tree-bagging station, ticketing station, and cookies-and-hot chocolate stand wait nearby. The barn has become a Christmas…

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Steady Going

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Steady Going By Christine Renaudin Two months into summer,three in retirement,one more kiss of the sun. I am starting to feel the change in ways that do not rub me wrong, like a shirt grown too tight,or a pair of new shoes     I am settling into a certain ease I didn’t know before, or I had forgotten.There is hardly any rushing through things unless absolutely necessary in case of an emergency. I walk the dog daily. Three months into summer,four in retirement,signs abound, changes beckon. I have trouble remembering what I did on a given day, and I resort to lists to keep track of the books I’ve read and places I’ve gone, so I can tell people when they are kind enough to ask.Morning and afternoon melt in one another.I glide along sweaty, in blissful…

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Print Dreams

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Print Dreams By DSBriggs Back in the day when I was a teen, I wanted to be a writer. I picked out my pen name, Kelly Brione. I began to dress as a writer. My image, based on a Stanford University guide, was to dress in black tights, a gray skirt, and a pink fluffy sweater over a black leotard. I had plans to write the Great American Novel, even though I did not have a clue how to do that.  I talked enough about being a writer that my Dad purchased a Smith-Corona portable typewriter for me. It had Elite type rather than the larger Pica type. Elite was the size of type that newspapers used for writing news stories in columns. I dreamed about being a columnist like Herb Caen or Erma Bombeck.  One thing…

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Simply A Shoot

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Simply A Shoot By Jane Person I was born a sweet onion my core protected by layers of peel   As the brown dry layers peel off, a stink surrounds.  Eyes water   There will be more down to my core   Under the faucet dirt and grime the externals simply slide off   There will be more down to my core   Tender layers peel a bulb thinner, lighter   There will be more down to my core   Fear.  What will be left of me? A little voice coaches—Just peel.   There will be more down to my core   Protecting peels now gone. Left a small, green shoot.   There is more down at my core   The person, me The small shoot unmasked Free from disguise Perhaps free at last Jane Person,…

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Herald

Memorable writing that sparks imagination. Lean in. Hear the writer’s voice on the page. Herald By Su Shafer After all these years She’s letting go No more worrying If she’s too fat Or too old Or what he’s thinking Or feeling Or if he’s alive or dead No more waiting For the rock to roll The hope when it moved a little But found a new dead end to be still So she’s letting go Dropping the over-packed luggage She carried with both hands For so long Her arms feel like wings As she walks in the sun Her steps so light, she might take flight On her way to the mailbox She sees a golden jewel beetle Resting on the sidewalk A living gem that stuns her breathless Spreading amber wings, it lifts effortlessly Into the air and buzzes regally away Sometimes messengers are more beautiful Than you can…